


Reflection

by amuk



Series: PH-Fanfest [31]
Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Regret, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6443788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew those eyes, knew that face. --Gil, Oz</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Prompt 2--Paradox
> 
> A/N: Wayback playback! I always did like that beginning when Oz didn’t know who Gil was. And then Oz trying to spot the differences between present and ten years ago past.

 

“Are you okay?” Raven asks, sounding oddly concerned. Oz stares up at him from where he fell, stares into those golden eyes.

 

He knows those eyes, knows that exact look too well. _Gil_ chokes in his throat and Oz is seeing double.

 

“Did you get hurt?” Raven asks, and it bleeds in, the concern. Bleeds in and colours his words and Oz almost wants to grab the man by his shoulders and see what’s inside. This is not the Raven he has interacted with the past few days, not the Raven that this stranger is trying to be.

 

“I’m…fine,” Oz replies slowly, getting up from the ground. He shakes his head, trying to fix his vision. The echo lingers, just out of his reach. “I just rolled out of bed.”

 

Raven stares at him a long moment. Biting his lip, he nods and turns around. “Nightmares?”

 

It’s such a Gil-thing to do. Oz has seen that action a thousand times before, whenever Gil wanted to ask something and thought better of it. He reaches out to grab Raven and turn him around, an imperial command sitting on his lips—

 

And drops his hand immediately. They don’t have that kind of relationship.

 

“Sort of.” Not so much a nightmare as a bad memory. He can’t count how many times _that_ night has replayed in his mind. Oz can still feel the weight of the sword in his hand, the sound of a clock counting down to his punishment.

 

“Hmmm…” Raven runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “It gets better with time.”

 

“Yeah.” Oz swallows hard, and asks, “Are you—”

 

“Yes?” Raven turns around and the gold freezes him.

 

Are you Gil? That’s impossible, such a stupid question.

 

Are you Gil’s brother?  No one else has those eyes, that exact look of worry and helplessness. Only Gil and he can’t be Gil.

 

He has to be related. “Are you…”

 

Oz remembers those eyes closing shut, his sword slicing through flesh. Remembers that cry of pain and his words die.

 

Any relative of Gil’s wouldn’t want to talk to him.

 

Gil wouldn’t want to talk to him.

 

“It’s nothing.”


End file.
